Amber woke up three hours later. Her eyes first fell on the sterile white ceiling of a hospital room. A male nurse was busy fiddling with the knobs on a machine nearby. An I.V. drip was attached to her one of her arms and the other was swathed in layers of bandages.
"How long have I been here?" she asked the nurse.
"Three hours. Nothing major, you'll be discharged tomorrow. You lost a lot of blood, we had to tranfuse more," the nurse said.
"Then what's this for?" Amber asked pointing at the I.V.
"Your body lacks basic nutrients," the nurse shook his head, "You're a model, aren't you? Dr. Abel guessed it the moment he saw your BMI and vital stats. But whatever your profession, you need to eat better or else you might end up anoerexic."
"Yes," Amber agreed. I used to be anoerexic. That
